A babbling brook winds through the mossy stones, Telling tales of forgotten times in hushed tones. A lone willow dips its branches low, Watching the silent journey of the water’s flow. Two children once skipped on its bank so green, Chasing dreams in the dappled light, unseen. Now only echoes of their laughter remain, As the brook whispers their names in the gentle rain. It carries secrets from the mountain’s crest, And gives the weary earth its quiet rest. Though seasons change and years may...
